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I’m a Martian American

By on June 25, 2013 in Atheism & Skepticism, Everything Else, Introvert vs Extrovert, Liberty & Freedom, Ruminations

 

Last week, I changed my Facebook timeline picture to this:

Mars_HighResolution_NASA

And added the following comment:

“This is Mars. Sometimes I feel like I was born there. Or that some people would like me to move there.”

I’ve been thinking a lot about that photograph since then… While I obviously don’t think I actually came from Mars, I have been aware for much of my life that I think a little differently than most people I know. I’m not suggesting this means I’m anything special. I don’t think I’m particularly smart. I have mediocre creativity. Am not an expert or close to it at anything.  But I do tend to think about things, at least it would seem, differently than most people I know.

Mostly, this has been somewhat of a curse.

One way in which this has become more apparent to me is during my relatively recent discovery that I’m a Classical Liberal (aka a Libertarian).  I’ve never identified fully with Democrats or Republicans, or if I think back to my days as a Christian, I never completely identified as a Lutheran, or whatever.  There were elements of those ideologies I agreed with and elements I disagreed with, but none of them completely represented my worldview in a way that felt “me.” I just tried to determine what ideas made the most sense to me, and rolled with it.  This spilled over into adulthood as I have tried to navigate the world of workplace norms and cultures (P.S. its a lot like high school), where I found myself not conforming as much as I probably should have to make life smoother sailing.  Combine a weird way of thinking with a strong sense of personal integrity and life can be a bit explosive and heart-wrenching.

A friend back home.

I remember a college class I took within my major field which was Sociology/Criminology. The professor talked about his views on drug legalization. He seemed to be saying he thought taking drugs was unwise, but that people should be free to do it, and that if they hurt others, they should pay the consequences heavily for it, but otherwise, should be left alone. I’ve come to understand this as a variation of a Libertarian viewpoint. Before he explained this theory, I would not have agreed with it, but after he gave a coherent and convincing argument, I began to see it his way, and have largely come to adopt his position as my own on that particular topic, especially as personal liberty has become one of my highest priorities in my world view. But at the time, I assumed his position must be a liberal position, since, you know… most academics are liberals, and of course he was advocating for drug use in some round about way.  No conservative would be on board with that!  But I would come to learn that this way of thinking (pro-drug legalization for complex reasons) was strongly ridiculed by both ends of the political spectrum, which surprised me. To me, after pondering the reasoning, rooted in a pro-choice-esque ownership of one’s body, and learning more about the horrific consequences of drug prohibition, it just made sense. It would be years before I heard the term “libertarian.”

[easyazon-image align=”right” asin=”B001B5VPXY” locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41EyXD%2B7%2BfL._SL160_.jpg” width=”113″]I’ve always managed (unwittingly) to adopt viewpoints from one of the least popular angles. I assure you, I don’t go out of my way to do so.  Ok, that’s partially true if I think about it more.  I do go out of my way to consider the unconventional position, but I don’t go out of my way to actually buy into it.  I think it is partially that obtuseness to labels that brings me to those ideas in the first place. Even now, as I’ve embraced the idea of being a “libertarian,” (though I think Classical Liberal sounds cooler, smarter, and less stocking up for the Zombie Apocalypse evoking) and freely call myself one, I am hesitant to adopt the label completely. I worry it will fence in my thinking, and subconsciously lead me to believe things because I think I should in order to fit in. Libertarianism is the easiest way to explain many of my general political positions, but it in no way fully encompasses who I am or what I believe in. And who knows, in the future, the word may not explain anything about me, much in the way that Christianity no longer does, except to explain my past, and the path to who I am now.

Anyway, this blog post is not meant to be about any specific ideas I do or do not believe in.  Its about being a Martian living on the Earth.  The paradox for me is while I tend to think about things in an uncommon way (at least uncommon in my real life circles), I don’t necessarily like being such a misfit, yet I cannot force myself (nor would I want to either) to believe what I don’t believe.  Learning that I no longer believe in god has been painful. It would have been much simpler had I remained a believer the rest of my life. True, there are apostates and non-believers who have it much worse than I do. Much, much, much worse (like I rarely worry about being stoned to death for my apostasy, and usually never worry about going to jail for it since I don’t live in Kentucky or in Indonesia), but as someone who longs to fit in, but who never has, this has not been an easy row. It amuses me when occasionally someone will speak of my “chosen belief system” or say to me “you lost faith” or thinks I am willfully trying not to believe in god. What led me to unbelief was starting out as a Christian, and wanting to learn more about my faith so that I could be a good apologist and advocate for the faith. I dreamed of being the biblical archaeologist who finally proved everything in the bible was true. That fervent faith and dream is what led me to agnostic atheism, which in turn adds to the way in which I see the world differently from my peers, which adds to the way in which I am a Martian.

BTW, isn’t this little rover just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?  If you’re not already, you should follow its Twitter feed @MarsCuriosity.

File:PIA16239 High-Resolution Self-Portrait by Curiosity Rover Arm Camera.jpg

As an introvert, who loves discussion and debate the way a pothead loves snack food, I can only say, thank goodness for the internet and the power of numbers! While not perfect, the internet – this blog, social media, other forums – has allowed me to connect with other freaks in the world and share battle cries.  I would love if more readers found and interacted on this blog, and maybe one day that will happen.  If you remember back to my blog on introversion, you’ll remember introverts aren’t antisocial, just differently social.  Contrary to popular belief, introverts aren’t all, or mostly, socially inept.  And many of us even like people.

The ridiculously sexy Captain Jean-Luc Picard, Star Trek: The Next Generation, after he read the phone book to me and I died of happiness.

Though, I’ll admit to being more on the socially shy side of introversion than many others, I hate chit-chat, small-talk, fluff, so those early stages of making new friends can be challenging for me.  Yet, I would LOVE to find more people in “real life” who share my love of deep discussion, and willingness to ponder and explore topics from unpopular vantage points.   As much as I love writing, and think I’m best when I can sort out my thoughts on a page, there is nothing like sitting at a place with amazing atmosphere, with great food, with a great friend, talking for hours about anything and everything, from who is the best Star Trek Captain (Picard, duh!)  to why we exist in the cosmos. I cherish those moments with friends, and would love to have even more of them, as I feel like they are few and far between these days as life becomes more complicated.

I only hope I don’t have to move to Mars to have more of them.

Cheers,

PersephoneK

Comments { 4 }

Disagreement Does Not Equal Intolerance

By on June 24, 2013 in Atheism & Skepticism

People sometimes ask me, “why are you so vocal (aka militant) about your atheism? Why do you criticize religion? Why are you intolerant? You’ll never change anyone’s mind.”

My response to that final statement, which informs my answers to the other questions, is “how do you know?” The fact is people do change their minds all the time. Sometimes, less often than I would hope, but it does happen.

However, changing minds about religion is not my primary motivator when I talk about my worldview on this blog and other forums, or social media, and in real life. I have many reasons, but mostly I simply want to be true to myself, be authentic.  Come out from the shadows.  And find like-minded individuals to commiserate with.  Doing so means adhering to a principal I believe in:

I do not believe any idea – religious or secular – should be immune from criticism.

All ideas should be subjected to challenging questions, and be exposed when they make no sense. I strongly believe that we cannot make good decisions as humans when we do not know, or lie to ourselves about, the facts of the natural world.  If in expressing my worldviews which are spawned from this principal I also convince someone to question their supernatural beliefs or even abandon their faith, I will see that as a side benefit victory. Point in fact, I would love if there were no more faith-based religion anywhere.  I think magical thinking holds us back as a species.  It is born from our evolved need for patterns, storytelling, and making sense of the world.

Not all magical thinking is equal. Some ideas are worse than others, and can lead to more harm than those more benign. It is important to note that generally speaking I do not think all, or even most, religious people are bad, stupid, or harmful to society. I once believed in a supernatural god wholeheartedly, and I’m pretty certain my mental capabilities are the same now as they were then.  But religion does breed a kind of dogmatic blindness to critical thinking, and makes it too easy for otherwise good people to behave in very immoral ways. Whenever you establish a-priori views for how the world must be, you throw out the ability to see clearly what actually is because you’re always trying to conform reality to that view. That is the kind of thinking that can (but doesn’t always) lead to other very scary ways of thinking, which in turn can lead to some very destructive and devastating behaviors, even by otherwise good people.

Holy Flying Spaghetti Monster, It’s the End of the World As We Know It!

Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster http://www.venganza.org/

Back to the statement that I will never change anyone’s mind, I would only say that I am the product of one such mind-changing.  And I know prominent atheist thinkers like the late Christopher Hitchens, Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennet (aka The Four Horsemen), among many others, have most certainly changed people’s minds. Minds are changed all the time. Sometimes people just need the tools and knowledge to make the choice to leap from the precipice.

And sometimes they need to be pushed.

I hope this blog and other places I discuss my worldview will push a few people off the cliff, or at least lead them to the edge to peer over. If you are strong in your faith, and unable or unwilling to let it go, then this blog – at least when it’s focused on atheism – probably doesn’t have much to offer you.  And that is fine.  But for those nearing the leap… I want you to know there are others out there like you, and you have a friend in me.

In the process of criticizing beliefs that have traditionally been somewhat protected under the guise of religious tolerance, people will inevitably feel offended. It is not my goal to offend people, but it is a byproduct I cannot control without completely stopping any discussion of who I am, and the things in life that I believe are important – vitally important.  Recently I have been told I am intolerant, and even a bully. I find this astonishing. I do not doubt that there are many atheists and skeptics out there who have no qualms about viciously attacking believers (and other atheists) at any cost. I have often debated with them and even defended Christians and other believers. When I was a fledgling atheist, I was even attacked in forums I visited seeking like minds. It was shocking to me. But I came to understand that the only thing that truly binds atheists together is their lack of belief in supernatural gods. There is no unified “doctrine” or moral code. It’s merely the default way of viewing the natural world. It’s a tired metaphor, but effective: Atheism is a belief system in the way that not collecting stamps is a hobby. Nobody runs around telling people they are a-stamp collectors. Yet, because of the way human minds are wired and the way we’ve evolved, magical thinking won out and placed the burden of proof on the default instead of the other way around (the way science works).

Watery Tarts and their Swords…

As a former Christian myself, I understand why believers believe. And if I am considered to be intolerant and mean, I can’t even imagine the word believers use to describe some of the more direct and combative atheists out there. But I want to clarify one thing…

For me, tolerance has nothing to do with freedom from criticism.

“You can’t expect to wield supreme power just ’cause some watery tart threw a sword at you!”

I am a skeptic at heart more than I am an atheist. Being a skeptic (not to be confused with cynic) means evaluating ideas using reason, logic, critical thinking… basically the foundations of the scientific method. Skeptics constantly challenge the status quo, and dogma. They call a spade a spade. They invite debate and discussion. They question everything, probably annoyingly so. But this is not the same thing as personally attacking an individual believer. If you call me ignorant, but do not explain what is ignorant about what I say, you are personally attacking me, or using an ad hominem attack. That is something I am strongly against. But if I call what you believe silly, that is a criticism of an idea, not you. Ideally, I’d follow that criticism up with why I think it’s a silly belief as well. Tolerance is being able to have provocative discussions with those we disagree, and even debate with gloves off regarding the merits of an idea without resorting to personal insults, or violence. In the words of the brilliant skeptic and scientist Carl Sagan, “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.” That is an axiom I try to live by.

Will I make mistakes? Will I offend inadvertently? Will I occasionally even overstep my own goals and personally attack someone? Much to my chagrin, the answer to all three is most likely yes. That will never be my intention, but it is bound to happen when I am choosing to engage people in debate of such a volatile and emotionally charged topic as religion. I hope you will forgive me when I cross the line. I will forgive you in the same spirit. But we must all try to push back our natural inclination to immediately take offense when someone pushes the boundaries of our personal belief systems and worldviews. We must ask ourselves, is what that person said a criticism of me, or is it a criticism of an idea I find important? If it’s the latter, it is my hope that we engage in thoughtful discussion, instead of throwing barbs (either to ourselves or publicly), and instead of burying our heads in the sand.

There is nothing to be gained as a species by remaining in a criticism-proof Utopian bubble of belief coated in religious tolerance.

I Can’t Read Your Mind, and You Can’t Read Mine

I have also been called closed-minded, I think because I state things with confidence and the assuredness of that moment. This astonishes me even more than being called intolerant, partly because I am the least confident person you’ll probably know, and partly because the facts belie that conclusion. I can understand how in the heat of a discussion our emotions kick in, and we feel like an attack on our beliefs is an attack on our character. Its a knee jerk reaction that can be hard to control.  But simply by exuding confidence, or by rejecting “new” evidence provided to me during a debate (often this is evidence I’ve already considered and moved past), I apparently appear unwilling to change my mind. Nonsense!

First of all, few people ever change their mind in the middle of a debate. Yourself included if you’re honest.

Second, a willingness to hear evidence or argument does not automatically lead to the adoption of evidence. That’s not how critical thinking works, otherwise with each new idea, we’d constantly change our beliefs.

And third, a lack of willingness to hear the same evidence that has already been considered and rejected is simply a way to save life’s precious ever waning time!

Essentially, people confuse my refusal to agree with them in that moment with an unwillingness to listen to new ideas and ponder. We all absorb new information over time. In some cases, it will lead us to a change of mind. In others, the new information will not make the cut. I can assure you, I hear what you say. I think about what you say (if I haven’t already, and sometimes if I have), sometimes for a very, very long time. Probably to an unhealthy level.  But I will not automatically agree with you any more than you will automatically agree with me. If you feel I am truly closed-minded, how can you explain my total 180 in my world view, from strong believer, to atheist, based entirely on new evidence, critical analysis, and consideration of various philosophies?

I can only respond to that critique as it relates to the subject of god or no god by saying this: I am very willing to believe in god in the event there is sufficient (or any) evidence to do so.  Can you say the same for your willingness to abandon your faith?  In short, my question for you is (if you are a believer), what will it take for you to reject god? I have an answer to that question.  Do you?

Now ask yourself who is closed minded?

Imagine No Religion Too

So, yes, full disclosure, it is my goal that one day, faith-based religion ceases to exist. I don’t expect this to happen in my lifetime, but I have decided to make it a personal mission to be part of that dream. This blog is one way I try to contribute. So is sharing my ideas on social media. I don’t believe in forcing anyone to believe anything, but I do believe in the power of words. I have been inspired by amazing writers and speakers, and while I can’t remotely compare myself to the powerhouses of the “new atheist” movement, I can do the best I can with what I have. Ideas matter. Things we believe matter. A common strain in polite society is “I don’t care what you believe, just don’t push your beliefs on me.” If you know me, I doubt you’d be able to think of a time when I’ve ever said anything like that. Usually what people mean is they don’t want to hear a different opinion, or a view that challenges their own. But I’m the girl that sits and listens to the street preacher, or takes their pamphlets to read on the bus,

Monster Shouter (Stephen King’s The Stand)

or invites the Jehovah’s Witness in to have a chat. As long as the discussion is civil, calm, and focused on the topic being debated, I really do want to talk and learn about ideas other than my own, even though sometimes those ideas can even make me uncomfortable. But I would never expect you to adopt my viewpoint, or respect my beliefs simply because I have them. You should adopt my beliefs if I persuade you with evidence and reason. You should be tolerant of my existence, and respect my freedom to think differently from you, but I will never ask you to respect my actual ideas unless they deserve that respect on their own merits. I expect you to expect nothing less of me.

Cheers,

PersephoneK

Comments { 9 }

Anything But An Atheist

By on June 20, 2013 in Atheism & Skepticism, Stuff by Others

I thoroughly enjoyed this. As someone who has been both an outspoken Christian and an outspoken Atheist, I have definitely experienced much harsher treatment as an atheist, so this speaks to me. That said, thank the FSM I was born in America in the modern era. It could be so much worse.

Video by bdw5000

Comments { 0 }

The Bible is a House of Cards

By on June 6, 2013 in Atheism & Skepticism, Path Pebbles Series, Why I'm...

PathPebblesCoverPath Pebbles Series: Why I’m… an Atheist 1.01 – The Bible is a House of Cards

More than a year ago, I posted my Remembering 9/11 Ten Years Later blog. I tried to explain in a relatively small space how that tragic day had made me an atheist, but looking back I’m not very satisfied with how I told that story. I had the highlights, but to an outsider, I’m sure that was all they got. One morning believer; next morning atheist. The truth is more muddled. That post was also my first attempt at bringing my atheism into the public, and potentially to people who know me in real life (SCARY!), so I felt like I had to say as much as possible. I failed on both fronts; I didn’t really make things public and I wasn’t really clear. So, for my first Path Pebbles post, I want to start to break the story of my atheism down a little bit further, but not attempt to tell the whole story (which is a continuing journey). This will be the tale of one reason out of many why I’m no longer a Christian, and why I am in fact, an atheist. There will be more pebbles thrown into the path in the future, but here is one that’s rather large.

When I was a believer, my goal was always to seek the Truth about God’s plans and intentions through my acceptance of the Holy Spirit and study of The Word (aka the Bible, specifically the New Testament).

Hold Me Closer Tiny Dancer

Elton John sings Tiny Dancer

I was raised a Lutheran. When I was in middle school, my church got a new youth director, and I began participating in youth group.  A lot.   As a result of their encouragement and lessons, I tried not to adhere to any specific dogma. What mattered was the truth; not specific doctrine. I called myself Christian or Spiritual, not Lutheran or Religious. I read the bible nightly before bed, and at all other times, I really wanted to understand what God wanted from me, and follow through accordingly. I would have done anything… anything for Him. I even remember having dreams (fantasies???) of suffering on His behalf… maybe being falsely accused of a crime and spending a life in prison. It’s not that I wanted that, but I thought a sacrifice like that might bring purpose to my life, which I felt was meant for greatness. To someone who’s never believed as I did, this may seem crazy. It’s not as unusual as you might think for someone as wrapped up in God’s spell as I was, despite leading a relatively normal life outside. I was a Jesus Freak who wasn’t all that freaky. Quiet, introverted, afraid of her own skin, and full of teenage angst, yes, but relatively normal. I got along with most people in my school, though I wasn’t popular, I wasn’t unpopular either. If someone asked me about God, I would gladly discuss Him (and I discussed God insatiably in youth group itself), but I didn’t go around wearing “Jesus Saves” t-shirts, and warning of damnation lest you repent. I might have thought it, but I tried not to be too weird in a What Would Jesus Do kind of way in public. My point is, you probably know people who are like my teenage self, and not think twice about them.

God’s Word Has Typos?

So the big question I always struggled with in my attempt to understand God’s intentions was: Is the Bible the inerrant Word of God, or is it merely inspired by God, not meant to be taken literally? The thought that it might be completely un-supernatural never really occurred to me, and if it did, I would quickly banish the thought. For most of my time as a fervent Christian, I would have answered that the Bible is not inerrant, or at least that many of the fantastic stories within it (like the 6 Day Creation of the World; Noah’s Ark; Jonah and the Whale) were metaphors and not meant to be taken literally. I thought I believed in science (though I would later learn how pathetic my scientific understanding and critical reasoning skills truly were), so I believed that the evidence proved the earth was old… very old. Billions of years old, not created in 6 days, and certainly older than 6,000 years (as many Creationists believe is biblically based). In addition to the impossible Bible math, I also accepted that the Bible had contradictions, or needed to be taken in the context of the writer’s time. This never troubled me much. So, that forced me to understand the Bible not as perfect fact, but as a collection of inspired stories to help me along a path to understanding God’s will, not as an exact road map.

For a time, that worked for me.

But somewhere along the way, I began to question… Why would God need to write in metaphor? For that matter, why would he need to write through humans? Why couldn’t he plainly explain to all humans in an instant (for eternity) what he expected? Surely an omnipotent agent had that kind of power. It would not negate “Free Will.” It would merely be the same courtesy any good parent gives their child: Here are the rules. Break them and XYZ will happen. No guesswork, no interpretation, no need to be infused with the Holy Spirit like some religious lottery game of eternity. Just tell us what we need to know and hold us accountable. Why play games for something as important as my eternal soul, and the souls of billions of others? It made no sense. Clearly, the Bible was not the perfect Word of God. But if it wasn’t, how could one accept some pieces as worthy, and some not? How could so many well-intentioned, prayer-full people read scripture and get such different results in analysis?

And the Walls Came a Tumblin’ Down

Once I made a determination – that the Bible either must be perfect or it can all be subject to disputable interpretation – it was only a matter of time before the Bible’s House of Cards tumbled down more easily than the Walls of Jericho. If the Bible was not perfect (and it wasn’t), nothing in it could be trusted as a guide for understanding God’s wishes. All of it could be easily dismissed of any moral obligations.http://www.dreamstime.com/stock-images-hisham-s-palace-jericho-israel-image27448054

From that point on, my unbelief was inevitable, but still a ways off.  It would take several more pebbles in my path to bring me all the way to blasphemy.  I hope to get to many of those eventually.

Cheers,

PersephoneK

Comments { 0 }

How Gay Rights Influenced my Deconversion

By on May 20, 2013 in Atheism & Skepticism, Liberty & Freedom

Last week Minnesota became the 12th state to legalize gay marriage. The law will go into effect on August 1, 2013. As you probably have surmised from my post last November on the vote to ban gay marriage and immortalize it in the Minnesota Constitution (which obviously did not pass), this decision makes me very happy. This momentous event has caused me to reflect on how important the issue of gay rights has been in my deconversion from Christianity, and ultimately from all religion.

To summarize, it has been very important.

I should start by setting the stage and let you know that I am not gay. Perhaps that shouldn’t be relevant, but I feel that it helps you to understand my perspective a little more fully. I do however have many gay family members and friends. I will not specify any further out of respect for their privacy except to say that many of these people have meant a lot to me throughout my entire life. I mention this not because I want you to let me off the hook for what I’m about to admit, but because it’s a pivotal fact in this story.

Hate the Sin; Love the Sinner and other Crap I Believed

It was during middle school that I began my journey into a very strong Christian faith. At some point along the way, I adopted a fairly common evangelical Christian mentality towards homosexuality which is to “hate the sin, but love the sinner.” At first, this seemed perfectly reasonable, loving, and in line with my understanding of what I believed the bible taught on the subject. I believed that god made man and woman, and that they (one man, one woman) should be together for the primary purpose of having children, and to create a perfect holy union within the trinity. I believed that within those boundaries were the only acceptable ways of expressing sexuality.

Prior to my path to devout Christian, my religious training was more general. I have discussed in other posts that my parents are believers, but not overtly dogmatic towards any denomination of Christianity. We attended a Lutheran Church, but frequently missed services, and I was a hit and miss Sunday school student. I cannot think of any discussions on the morality of homosexuality prior to my middle school years. And although I cannot remember the specific timeline, at some point I went from not having any memorable opinion about homosexuality, to believing it was a sinful lifestyle condemned by god.

In short, and to be clear, I now believe my religious understanding entirely shaped any opinion I later adopted regarding homosexuals and the immorality of homosexual behavior during the years of my faith.

I Think I Love Ya

At the same time, I still truly loved (in my mind) those in my life who were gay. But god’s message had put me into conflict with how I felt about my gay friends and family members. So to justify this belief, I likened homosexuality to alcoholism. I told myself it was the behavior — the physical acts of love — that offended god, not merely being gay. For, a recovering alcoholic can lead a healthy and moral life. It is only when they fall off the wagon that the downward spiral begins. And although at the time, I did not know any of the science surrounding the topic, I believed that a homosexual lifestyle was a choice, at least to some degree. Even if an inclination towards homosexuality is innate and inherited, it didn’t mean indulging in that behavior was ok. This too, I likened to alcoholism, and separated it from the idea of racial identity, and civil rights, where a person is born a certain way. We all had been given free will, I reasoned, and were empowered by god to push aside our base instincts and urges. We all have burdens to bear, and some were given the burden of being gay. This tactic worked for me for a long time. I had never felt hatred or anger towards gays. The emotion was closer to pity. I felt terrible that they had been afflicted by this demonic tendency and hunger for someone of the same gender. I prayed for them. I truly wanted them to find salvation in the house of god, and be able to live free from sinful behavior. I believed I was righteous, and I believed this was what god expected me to believe.

I look back on this way of thinking with extreme shame and humility. I now see clearly that I was wrong.

Over time, the thorny contradiction between god’s will and how I wanted to treat the people I loved poked at me. Some of the gay people I loved came out of the closet (none of those revelations were truly surprising frankly), and I began to feel conflicted between what I believed god wanted from me and what I felt was moral behavior towards a fellow human being who I loved and who loved others in return. I learned a little bit about the science of homosexuality as well, and came to the (true) conclusion that there is a strong biological component, and that even if the trait is not born in a person (which I believe it is), then it develops from an early enough age that it might as well be from birth. I began to question how a loving and just god could afflict his children (a fairly large total number of them at around 3% to 8%) in nearly every culture, yet condemn them for acting on their natural impulses. It would have been one thing if those impulses hurt others, but how is it hurting anyone if one person physically loves another person who consents to that love?

Why Does a Loving God Condemn Those Who Love and Are Loved in Return?

This single idea — that absent the word of god saying homosexuality is a sin, there is nothing else that makes it so – was a significant factor in my ultimate deconversion. After realizing the cruelty in god’s condemnation of such a victimless “sin”, in fact, of a behavior that actually promotes love towards other humans, I began to see other similar disconnects between the morality of Yahweh and the more evolved morality of modernity. I will not go into all of those here, but it’s not a small list.

After I made this leap in my own moral intuitions, it still took me some time to completely shed the baggage I had purchased during my religious obsession. For a while, I held onto the idea that civil unions would be a good alternative. That preserving tradition was a worthy goal. Or that keeping marriage between a man and a woman would prevent the slippery slope argument eventually leading to polygamy and goat marriage. I realized several years ago, even after I had begun to call myself an atheist, and truly believed that homosexuality was completely normal and moral, that even those arguments were deeply rooted in religion. They were reflexive beliefs more than well-thought out. It took more self-education in many areas of philosophy and science before I was able to articulate for myself a cogent world view that did not require a god for morality.

But it was this single issue that first revealed the Christian god (as I knew him) to be truly ancient, outdated, and immoral. It frustrates me today when I hear strains of “hate the sin, love the sinner” being expressed regarding this issue, even as I understand where it comes from. One reason I wanted to write this post is to explain that I do not believe most religious people who share that belief are haters or bigots, though they are often portrayed that way, even by other Christians. I think reality is more complicated than that. I do not doubt that many faithful Christians have grappled with the conflict I felt. It is a difficult choice to make between one’s all powerful god who controls your immortal soul’s destiny, and family and friends. Indoctrination is a powerful drug. Many who adopt an anti-homosexuality position tend to be regular people trying to live a good life, and trying to be a positive force in the world. Very few out there come even close to the level of vitriol spewed by the despicable Westboro Baptist Church. Regardless, of that, I do not fully give them (or my former self) a pass. If your god is forcing you to make a choice between him, and your treatment of other humans merely for behavior that has absolutely no impact on you or other sentient creatures whatsoever, I beg you to reconsider whether or not your god deserves that love and respect.

Photo Credit: http://img1.etsystatic.com/000/0/5583029/il_fullxfull.175325241.jpg

But They’re Not True Christians…

Some Christians get around this by claiming that anyone condemning homosexuality or homosexuals is not a “True Christian.” To those who say I have misunderstood the bible’s teaching in this respect, I would say, that is free for you to believe, but I believed and still believe there is more than adequate justification within the pages of the bible to support a position that gay love is morally repugnant. The notion is immortalized in the word “sodomy.” That said, if you must choose between being a fundamentalist Christian who condemns homosexuality, and a believer who cherry picks the parts you support and throws out the parts that offend you, I would rather you are the latter. I applaud your decision to ignore morally despicable teachings in favor of love for your fellow man, but not all of your brethren have been fortunate enough to grow up with that liberty in their faith. That is one thing I love about being an atheist. Unlike when I was a believer, and I felt that I had to find the truth in the whole bible, I can now choose any part of any world philosophy I want, and throw out others I have no use for without having to call myself a “true” anything.

For me, it all comes down to what are the things that improve human well-being and what are the things that destroy it? That is where my line of morality and immorality is drawn, and where the difficult discussions of right and wrong begin. I have yet to hear any reasonable argument that puts homosexual behavior of consenting adults remotely close to the “destroy well-being” category of behaviors. How can mutual love ever destroy the happiness of those who are in love, or those who live amongst them? If you can articulate an argument without invoking god (directly or indirectly), I’d be curious to entertain it, but I’d be surprised if you can.

A Path Towards Moral Maturity

As I think back to my former self, I am saddened by her and for her. I am saddened that she ever felt like she had to choose between her friends and family and her god, and I am horrified at the thought that she might have made anyone feel like a sinner. I am glad that I was able to shed my religious veil of self-righteousness relatively early in my life, and before I had met as many people as I have now, or will as my life continues. “Hate the sin, love the sinner” has its place in the world. There are many situations in life where we can deplore a loved one’s behavior, but still love them as a person. Homosexuality should never be included in that category, because at its heart, there is nothing inherently wrong with it. It’s a natural behavior that hurts no one any more than heterosexual behavior does among consenting individuals. As a result, although it’s under the guise of reasonability, the mantra to condemn the behavior but love the individual falls flat. If you have ever judged someone for their homosexual behavior while purporting to love them, you should know you have probably hurt them deeply, because the only way they can ever gain your acceptance is by suppressing something within them that is perfectly normal and good. If you find condemnation to be a moral way of treating your fellow human beings, then I feel sad for you, as I did for myself. I can only hope you may one day reconsider. 

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

As a Christian apostate, I have gotten a taste of what it is like for gays and lesbians to come out of the closet. In fact, the atheist community has adopted many of the tactics used by the LGBT community, and it has begun to pay real dividends in society’s acceptance of us. They bravely paved the way, often under real threat of violence and harm. I am thankful for that. I feel a little bookend of solidarity with them in their fight to change hearts and minds. I know from personal experience, that we all are capable of changing our thoughts, even on such emotionally charged topics as homosexuality and religion. I’m inspired by their willingness to be themselves in the face of hateful speech (even if inspired by misguided good intentions), and ancient ideologies still looming large in our culture. The tide is turning, and I am confident that in fifty years, or so, people will wonder what all the fuss was about, both when it comes to gay marriage, and atheists walking among the masses. Maybe by then atheists will also be able to hold office and serve on juries in all fifty states. But it is because of the LGBT community in part that I speak out about atheism, and my personal experiences as a former Christian. It is why I celebrate the new law in Minnesota and the previous states. The times they are a changin’.  Thank the stars!

Peace and love,

PersephoneK

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My Leap of Un-Faith

By on April 9, 2013 in Atheism & Skepticism

Leap from the precipice

April 1st is always an important anniversary for me. I privately celebrate it each year. I had originally planned to post this on 4/1, but life got in the way.  I usually refer to April 1st as my Epiphany Day, but this year I’ve decided to rename it Precipice Day, or maybe co-name it, because I feel precipice is a more descriptive word for why it’s such an important day to me.  Precipice also has a less religulous ring to it. After reading this, I know that many of you will find it fitting that I have deemed April Fool’s Day as one of the more significant days in my escape from faith, and that is your prerogative. If it gives you joy to see it that way, so be it. The irony hasn’t been lost on me, though I would prefer to think of it as my escape from foolish thinking day, because if I must pick one single day, April 1, 2002 was possibly the most important single day in my deconversion from Christianity to atheism, even more so than 9/11, which I’ve discussed before. This is the story of why.

In an earlier post, I talked briefly about 4/1/2002 and its role in my deconversion, but I want to go a little more in depth, and try to explain a little more clearly what it meant to me. I had recently quit my unfulfilling job, and decided to take a little trip alone before I started the next job a week later. I settled on Lake Tahoe due to the combination of beauty, lots of stuff to do alone (gambling, hiking, etc), and good travel deals. I’d never traveled alone before, and I was looking forward to my four days away in a beautiful place I’d never been before. And I actually hoped it might be a good place to do some soul searching. Little did I know, the searching would begin in my own airport before I even took flight.

As random luck would have it, I was scheduled to fly out of Minneapolis on April 1st. On this particular April 1st, luck decided to throw in a little something extra, a lovely Spring-in-the-Upper-Midwest-Blizzard. Minnesotans this turbulent, and lingering Spring can identify. I ended up stranded at my own airport for twelve hours as I watched my flight keep getting delayed a couple of hours at a time, and finally canceled, forcing me to catch a different flight at around 1 am. This was the recent post-9/11 world of airport security. Even without the snow, leaving the airport would have been a colossal pain. A friend of mine nearly visited me, but the weather and security made it too difficult. So, I had a lot of down time to wander around the (actually pretty awesome) Minneapolis-St. Paul International airport to try to keep myself entertained. This was, after all, the pre-Smart Phone era.

I had been wrestling with my waning faith for quite some time by this point. I was certainly still a Christian*, but the terrorist attacks on 9/11 had rocked my religious world in a pivotal and unimaginable way. 9/11 hadn’t been the first thing to make me question my faith, but I think it was the first event to make me seriously question God’s existence, if only for a fleeting moment. By the time of my Tahoe trip in April 2002, I had not allowed that thought to germinate. It seemed too awful to really consider. Whenever it surfaced, I quickly shoved it aside, as something beyond comprehension. I had tried to never be blindly dogmatic in my religious beliefs. I have always found it important to seek the truth, and had usually found that truth within the pages of the bible, and in the fellowship of church. I believed the humans within the church were not infallible, so despite being raised Lutheran, I considered myself a Christian first. My goal in life had been to understand what God’s purpose for me was, and I took that mission seriously. It was because of that mission and constant learning that I eventually found myself in a crisis of faith. As I grew older, and educated myself more, the threads of the bible were pulled apart more and more by evidence, critical thinking, and science. Yet I was still not able to truly consider the idea that either God may not exist, or he may not be the god I worshiped, namely the Judeo-Christian god of the Old and New Testaments. To me, to do so bordered — and occasionally crossed — the boundaries of blasphemy.

I had hoped this solitary trip might help to clarify for me what exactly had been missing in my faith. I was even hopeful the trip might help me knit the threads of faith back together. Instead, sometime that evening as I wandered through the airport, I stumbled upon a discarded copy of Harper’s Magazine, and my world changed forever.

I noticed the cover of the magazine immediately. It highlighted an article about the Jewish Exodus from Egypt and raised questions about the existence of the Bible’s King David. I’ve always loved archaeology (majored in it for a time at college), so the fact that this was also an article about Biblical archaeology made it ripe for the picking. I devoured the article, and as I sat there absorbing all that I had read, I had a moment of clarity that I have never had before or since.Exodus_Egyptians drowned in the Red Sea

It was not the content of the article that convinced me of anything. I think it had some very interesting points, some of which could be highly debatable, some of which are more than likely truth. But it had questioned the existence of David, which caused a thought in me to click: If David may not have been real… Jesus’ lineage, ergo his divine legitimacy, would also be in question. The Bible had become a House of Cards in seconds. I had believed I was a fairly open-minded Christian, and I still believe I was as open minded as I could be within the boundaries of the faith. I wanted to hear other opinions. I believed it was important to question my faith, and consider other possibilities. I took Paul’s advice to be like the Bereans, to continuously ask questions, and check the scriptures rather than blindly follow.  But until that moment in the airport, I had not realized how limited I was in my endeavor to explore all possibilities. It was as if I was able to go as far as the edge of a high precipice. At the bottom of the cliff was the fiery pit of Hell. If I leaned over, I could feel its warmth, but I couldn’t see the flames. I knew it was there, but didn’t know how far down it was, or if there were any safe places to land – perhaps an outcropping to stand on, or a branch jutting from the rock to grab — before I was consumed by the fire. Prior to finding that Harpers article, I only dared peek over the edge of the precipice, crawling on hands and knees, never really getting close to the edge. After reading it, I took a few steps back, took a deep breath, ran towards the edge…

… and I leaped.

From that moment on, as gravity pushed me toward the bottom of the unknown abyss, I was in complete peace knowing I was free to explore any and all possibilities of our existence and purpose. It’s a cliché, but it’s true: I felt as though a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. I felt like I was floating, drifting on the air like a feather with the wholly comforting thought that god may exist, or god may not exist, but I am now free to fully question his existence, and go wherever the truth leads me.

Come what may.

In that moment, I did not become an atheist. I still believed in “god” in the most abstract sense. But I was fairly certain that the Bible’s many versions of god were not accurate. My church’s version of god was not accurate. My version of god was not accurate. Along with these new confidences, I felt sure that if the god I had loved throughout my faith did in fact exist, and I was wrong, that he would be able to see into my heart and know that all I did was use the tools of reason and critical thinking that he gave me to arrive at whatever conclusion I came to. That I never sought to leave him. At one point, I would have died for him. That he would see that I am a good person who only wants to understand the truth. If at the end, I decided, that honesty gets me a final trip into Hell, then the god I loved is not the real god anyway, and there was nothing I could have done to change the outcome. For the god I loved, would not allow a good person to suffer an eternity in torture and despair.

Fire_iStock_000020144064_ExtraSmallAfter I took the leap off of the precipice, it was a relatively short trip from non-Christian, to agnostic, to agnostic-atheist. I even flirted with Buddhism for a microsecond, and then let that go for the same reasons I let Yahweh go. I could no longer un-see reality. Once you’re freed of dogma, (and the threat of eternal suffering), it’s amazing how reality constantly bangs you over the head. There’s no need to create elaborate explanations to make sense of events in nature, to conform them to what my church, or bible, or spiritual leaders have taught me. There is only the truth (and that’s truth, not Truth). It exists whether I believe in it or not. Occam’s Razor wins.

I’m still learning every day, but I’m no longer hindered by fear of eternal damnation in my pursuit of the truth. That has made all the difference. And I believe I am not alone. It’s a terrifying thing to let go of faith, even when your powers of reason tell you it’s the correct path. Our brains are wired to believe things that aren’t here. To believe that the things that go bump in the night will find us. To believe that the way to survive into a mythical next life is by latching onto a more powerful magical thing in the sky. To believe in supernatural agency, according to Dr. Michael Shermer, may be an evolutionary byproduct of patternicity, a thing that kept us from being eaten by lions in the tall African grasses. Fighting innate traits developed over millions of years is a difficult thing. It’s not easy to take that leap. But not doing so holds us back. Believing the lie is comforting. Believing in reality can be terrifying, but it’s also exhilarating, and freeing, and ultimately, the only way I want to live.

Cheers,

PersephoneK

*In my 9/11 10 Year Anniversary blog where I discussed 4/1/2002, I said that 9/11 was the day I became an atheist. I still believe that is true, from a metaphorical, or symbolic, point of view, but I only realized it much later. Strictly speaking though, I believed in god in some form or another, for quite some time following 9/11. Apologies if that was, or is, confusing.

 

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